Somewhere along the way, frontman Win Butler and the rest of Arcade Fire must have read Don DeLillo’s White Noise. I read the novel in my tenth-grade English class—it’s a grim, wryly comedic cultural critique that centers on a small-town Hitler studies professor and his family. Everyone struggles to cope with the specter of his or her eventual death, and the middle of the book is taken up with a narration of an occurrence known as “the airborne toxic event” (you can probably guess the gist of what happens). The book—and Arcade Fire’s music, too—hits its audience with a curious, apocalyptic amalgam of paranoia and nostalgia, energy and reflection. And if the opening of Funeral is heavy with fever and anxiety (just consider the music video for “Neighborhood #2”), then the third track—which opens with a moment of white noise—reverses the scales in the direction of melancholy.
Throughout “Une Année Sans Lumière” (“A Year Without Light”), the band interweaves a subdued, wistful melody with imagery dominated by shadows. The A.V. Club’s review of Funeral characterized the piece as an “entr’acte…[with a] music box lullaby”, but the scene sketched out by the lyrics is that of a nighttime pass through town (the band’s Canadian winter is evidently very long, very cold, and very dark). The induced blindness extends to a far deeper level than that of the surroundings: not only the horses, but also the parents wear blinkers to restrict their sight. The only source of light, in fact, is the narrator, whose “eyes are shooting sparks”. But despite a glimmer of optimism, the ability to see causes unease: “If you see a shadow”, warns Butler, “there’s something there.” Something is always lurking around the corner, but it can only make you afraid if you know about it; for those that live with their eyes blinkered, ignorance means peace of mind.
For the last 45 seconds of the piece, though, the mood completely transforms. Suddenly, we’re back to the energy of the first two tracks, but with a buoyant, jam-band twist. Almost before the change is registered, though, the song ends with a final chord melting away.
Previous track: Neighborhood #2 (Laika) Next track: Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)
